As if EastEnders couldn't get enough of death. We've just buried Ronnie and Roxy, and now there's a surprise death this week. (Who am I kidding? I've just watched 2 episodes back-to-back as my January from hell continues to progress, and I know the twist. I blame this on Trump, but then I'm blaming everything on that mofo at the minute.)
Deaths in EastEnders seem like the Number 10 bus, or in this instance, the bus from Walford High which seems to be destined for Barking - nobody dies for donkey's years, and then we get three all in a row.
At least we know that one of Sean O'Connor's favourite devices is overshadowing. This episode laid it on thick and fast.
The episode gave us lots of hints as to the victim about to be stiffed.
Potential Victim Number One: Jay ... or Maybe Not. The first scenes are all about Jay. I'd never seen Jay being given so much attention. Not long ago, he was a pariah, but at the beginning of Monday's episode, he was everybody's principal boy. The shadows of overshadowing hang all around him - Kush greets him with a misquotation about a "chill" wind bodes ill before realising that it's an "ill" wind. Of course, Jay's been ill and missed the Blisters' funeral. Donna wants him to have a look at her wheelchair, with the wheel sticking.
Later at Coker and Sons, Billy catches him searching for flats - so it's a good piece of continuity that they've remember that Jay is under notice from Social Services to leave the Mitchell house, so he's looking for flats and got distracted by looking at ueber-priced property in Soho. (Look, why can't they remember that there's a flat going empty upstairs, Les and Pam's old place? He and Jay could flatshare).
Jay and Billy were the light entertainment highlight of this episode. When they are firing on all four cylinders, Jay's and Billy's relationship is much more natural, affectionate and entertaining that the co-dependent relationship that Jay obviously doesn't enjoy, but to which he is addicted, the Mitchells. Billy is genuinely fond of Jay, and appears more fatherly and caring about him than the decrepit, toxic Phil, who blows hot and cold toward him as it suits his own special circumstances.
As Billy and Jay rush off to pick up a recently deceased person, Billy makes the overshadowing remark of the episode:-
Let's hope we don't have to bury anybody else we know by the end of the month.
So you know right away that whoever dies is going to be someone the pair of them know, if not one of them.
Later, we were treated to lengthy scenes of the pair of them en route back to Walford stuck in some sort of massive traffic jam, where they discussed, basically, life in general and, in particular, Jay's circumstances. Billy noticed a young care assistant at the place where they had collected the body they were transporting was attracted to Jay, and he'd surreptitiously slipped her Jay's mobile number. Jay is reluctant to even discuss the possibility of a relationship, based mostly on his police record as a sex offender. Billy, on the other hand, bigs up the positive side of being in a stable relationship, and urges Jay to live his life because this day could be his last.
Potential Victim Number Two: Denise (Well, It's Obvious). Friday's episode left us in no doubt, with Kim's final words to Denise at the duff-duff:-
You're dead to me.
Hey, wait a moment. Didn't Max say that to Lauren over a year ago, and they seem to be fine now? In this instance, however, the line was a plot device. Any viewer knew that with an impending disaster scheduled to happen this week, there would be some dramatic scene involving Denise and Kim, and these words would come back to haunt them.
Denise was bothered about this, and you could tell that Kim was, as well, but she was still up her own arse about Denise giving the baby up for adoption. It was the classic stand-off situation where Denise was demanding an apology from Kim, which she may or may not accept, and where Kim was refusing to reconcile with Kim or to accept her decision.
Circular storyline. It provided a prop for Grandma Medusa to be thrown out of Kim's house, and it also show us, yet again, exactly how emasculated Vincent has become. At least he had the courage to admit to Kim that he came down on her side of the argument because he knew she was standing behind him.
Potential Victim Number Three: Martin (or Kush or Donna or ... Anybody in the Market. The episode began with Carmel meeting with a strange man looking around the market, and the real action kicked in when Stacey informed Martin that one of the mothers present at a birthday party Arthur was attending asked her if she'd heard any rumours about the market being moved.
(Hang on a minute ... Arthur was at a birthday party? Arthur turned one year old not so long ago, Christmas Eve to be exact. He's still a babe-in-arms, so how can he possibly enjoy a birthday party? And wouldn't this be more or less some sort of glorified play date where mothers intermingled and gossiped? Yet Stacey uses it like a faux nursery? At least it explains where Arthur is - a day-long birthday party - when the shit hits the fan.
Martin's in bolsheviki mood when he hears the goss about the market being moved. Apparently, it's being moved miles away and into a covered setting, with enlarged stores in shop motifs and a chance for the stall-holders to expand. Not willing to accept the possibility of change and the expense that comes with it, Martin proposes a strike, but no one concurs with him, so he closes the stall and storms home, only to be berated by Stacey for taking a stand.
Whoever decided to turn Stacey and Martin into a 21st Century equivalent of what Pauline and Arthur were was a bloody genius. Their argument was strong, but you could tell that there was a lot of love behind their situation. But once again, this is a standard soap trope of a couple having an argument, and then something tragic happening, with the strong possibility of a death, leaving the survivor guilt-stricken. So already, we had Kim's awful words to Denise, and Martin and Stacey parting in a row, with Stacey's words ...
Why don't you re-open the stall if you fancy some air?
Stacey's concerns are practical - they're barely making ends meet; and Martin is typically condescending in his reply. Yes, he knows she ran her own stall ... for about five minutes, and his family have been stallholders in Walford for about 70 years (well, closer to 80, I'd say).
Spot the Victim: Lee and Whitney. Pardon the pun, but this was the real Trumper of the episode.
It seems that King Drip Ryan, a killer no less, has managed to get released from prison, find a brilliant job in Yorkshire and marry his prison guard girlfriend. As. If.
Anyway, he's invited Whitney and Lee up to Wakefield to celebrate, but the way Whitney words this news, it does come across to a Lee, low on self-esteem and confidence, as if she were willfully making an overt comparison between Lee, her husband with no criminal record, and her lesser-mortal brother, who seems to have successfully turned his life around (the subtle implication being that Lee hadn't). The clinker was when Whitney said that the magnanimous Ryan would pay for their train fare to Wakefield, which prompts Lee to storm out of the flat.
And Whitney goes whining to Mick. Again. And presenting Lee as the bugbear in all of this. Lee does nothing. He doesn't want to do anything. He just sits around. It sounds entitled and spoiled, the whining whinge of a spoiled brat, telling Mick just enough to get him even more riled at Lee, instead of wanting to talk to Lee - I mean really talk to him about what is bothering him. This is something no one has attempted to do - to talk to Lee, even with a third an non-interested party present, possibly Shirley, to find out the core causes of his behaviour. Instead, Mick stares hard at his son and unconsciously is brought into a conscious flirtatious relationship, assuming the knight in shining armoure role to Whitney's princess-in-distress, married to a young man, who behaves like an old one. At one point, Mick even just tells Whitney to say they are going to Wakefield, end of story; but off she toddles to town to buy King Drip and Queen Drizzle an engagement present.
The other highlight of the episode was Tina, Shirley and Sylvie - Tina's prize of a mother-and-daughter photo session, and her efforts to fanagle Shirley into the shoot. These three work well together, and I find myself liking Shirley again, as she allows herself to be drawn into a dynamic with her sister and her mother which she tries hard not to show that she's enjoying. Sylvie's innocent joy at having her picture taken - A man wanted to take my picture once; he paid me a quid - to Shirley's vivid explanation to Kathy of Tina's pretended illness, they were a hoot.
The Root of the Problem. Well, it's the bus crash, of course, isn't it? And it happens to be the school bus run, with Denise returning from the library. What I found most disturbing about this was, yet again, the obvious, horrendously sexist and demeaning bullying of Louise by this Keegan fuckwit, who seems to be not only an overt misogynist and a bully, but also someone bordering on psychopathic meanness. The scene where he violently barged into her, shoving her violently up against the lockers and then divulging everything she said to him online, thinking him to be Travis, the other boy.
Actually, Rebecca was right. Keegan had committed identity theft, and Travis had a right to know. And Louise exaggerated about Shakil's part in the humiliation of her at the tube station. Shakil didn't laugh. This boy has serious behavioural problems, considering the way he treated Denise on the bus. I hope this arsehole isn't a permanent character. He's vile.
Deaths in EastEnders seem like the Number 10 bus, or in this instance, the bus from Walford High which seems to be destined for Barking - nobody dies for donkey's years, and then we get three all in a row.
At least we know that one of Sean O'Connor's favourite devices is overshadowing. This episode laid it on thick and fast.
The episode gave us lots of hints as to the victim about to be stiffed.
Potential Victim Number One: Jay ... or Maybe Not. The first scenes are all about Jay. I'd never seen Jay being given so much attention. Not long ago, he was a pariah, but at the beginning of Monday's episode, he was everybody's principal boy. The shadows of overshadowing hang all around him - Kush greets him with a misquotation about a "chill" wind bodes ill before realising that it's an "ill" wind. Of course, Jay's been ill and missed the Blisters' funeral. Donna wants him to have a look at her wheelchair, with the wheel sticking.
Later at Coker and Sons, Billy catches him searching for flats - so it's a good piece of continuity that they've remember that Jay is under notice from Social Services to leave the Mitchell house, so he's looking for flats and got distracted by looking at ueber-priced property in Soho. (Look, why can't they remember that there's a flat going empty upstairs, Les and Pam's old place? He and Jay could flatshare).
Jay and Billy were the light entertainment highlight of this episode. When they are firing on all four cylinders, Jay's and Billy's relationship is much more natural, affectionate and entertaining that the co-dependent relationship that Jay obviously doesn't enjoy, but to which he is addicted, the Mitchells. Billy is genuinely fond of Jay, and appears more fatherly and caring about him than the decrepit, toxic Phil, who blows hot and cold toward him as it suits his own special circumstances.
As Billy and Jay rush off to pick up a recently deceased person, Billy makes the overshadowing remark of the episode:-
Let's hope we don't have to bury anybody else we know by the end of the month.
So you know right away that whoever dies is going to be someone the pair of them know, if not one of them.
Later, we were treated to lengthy scenes of the pair of them en route back to Walford stuck in some sort of massive traffic jam, where they discussed, basically, life in general and, in particular, Jay's circumstances. Billy noticed a young care assistant at the place where they had collected the body they were transporting was attracted to Jay, and he'd surreptitiously slipped her Jay's mobile number. Jay is reluctant to even discuss the possibility of a relationship, based mostly on his police record as a sex offender. Billy, on the other hand, bigs up the positive side of being in a stable relationship, and urges Jay to live his life because this day could be his last.
Potential Victim Number Two: Denise (Well, It's Obvious). Friday's episode left us in no doubt, with Kim's final words to Denise at the duff-duff:-
You're dead to me.
Hey, wait a moment. Didn't Max say that to Lauren over a year ago, and they seem to be fine now? In this instance, however, the line was a plot device. Any viewer knew that with an impending disaster scheduled to happen this week, there would be some dramatic scene involving Denise and Kim, and these words would come back to haunt them.
Denise was bothered about this, and you could tell that Kim was, as well, but she was still up her own arse about Denise giving the baby up for adoption. It was the classic stand-off situation where Denise was demanding an apology from Kim, which she may or may not accept, and where Kim was refusing to reconcile with Kim or to accept her decision.
Circular storyline. It provided a prop for Grandma Medusa to be thrown out of Kim's house, and it also show us, yet again, exactly how emasculated Vincent has become. At least he had the courage to admit to Kim that he came down on her side of the argument because he knew she was standing behind him.
Potential Victim Number Three: Martin (or Kush or Donna or ... Anybody in the Market. The episode began with Carmel meeting with a strange man looking around the market, and the real action kicked in when Stacey informed Martin that one of the mothers present at a birthday party Arthur was attending asked her if she'd heard any rumours about the market being moved.
(Hang on a minute ... Arthur was at a birthday party? Arthur turned one year old not so long ago, Christmas Eve to be exact. He's still a babe-in-arms, so how can he possibly enjoy a birthday party? And wouldn't this be more or less some sort of glorified play date where mothers intermingled and gossiped? Yet Stacey uses it like a faux nursery? At least it explains where Arthur is - a day-long birthday party - when the shit hits the fan.
Martin's in bolsheviki mood when he hears the goss about the market being moved. Apparently, it's being moved miles away and into a covered setting, with enlarged stores in shop motifs and a chance for the stall-holders to expand. Not willing to accept the possibility of change and the expense that comes with it, Martin proposes a strike, but no one concurs with him, so he closes the stall and storms home, only to be berated by Stacey for taking a stand.
Whoever decided to turn Stacey and Martin into a 21st Century equivalent of what Pauline and Arthur were was a bloody genius. Their argument was strong, but you could tell that there was a lot of love behind their situation. But once again, this is a standard soap trope of a couple having an argument, and then something tragic happening, with the strong possibility of a death, leaving the survivor guilt-stricken. So already, we had Kim's awful words to Denise, and Martin and Stacey parting in a row, with Stacey's words ...
Why don't you re-open the stall if you fancy some air?
Stacey's concerns are practical - they're barely making ends meet; and Martin is typically condescending in his reply. Yes, he knows she ran her own stall ... for about five minutes, and his family have been stallholders in Walford for about 70 years (well, closer to 80, I'd say).
Spot the Victim: Lee and Whitney. Pardon the pun, but this was the real Trumper of the episode.
It seems that King Drip Ryan, a killer no less, has managed to get released from prison, find a brilliant job in Yorkshire and marry his prison guard girlfriend. As. If.
Anyway, he's invited Whitney and Lee up to Wakefield to celebrate, but the way Whitney words this news, it does come across to a Lee, low on self-esteem and confidence, as if she were willfully making an overt comparison between Lee, her husband with no criminal record, and her lesser-mortal brother, who seems to have successfully turned his life around (the subtle implication being that Lee hadn't). The clinker was when Whitney said that the magnanimous Ryan would pay for their train fare to Wakefield, which prompts Lee to storm out of the flat.
And Whitney goes whining to Mick. Again. And presenting Lee as the bugbear in all of this. Lee does nothing. He doesn't want to do anything. He just sits around. It sounds entitled and spoiled, the whining whinge of a spoiled brat, telling Mick just enough to get him even more riled at Lee, instead of wanting to talk to Lee - I mean really talk to him about what is bothering him. This is something no one has attempted to do - to talk to Lee, even with a third an non-interested party present, possibly Shirley, to find out the core causes of his behaviour. Instead, Mick stares hard at his son and unconsciously is brought into a conscious flirtatious relationship, assuming the knight in shining armoure role to Whitney's princess-in-distress, married to a young man, who behaves like an old one. At one point, Mick even just tells Whitney to say they are going to Wakefield, end of story; but off she toddles to town to buy King Drip and Queen Drizzle an engagement present.
The other highlight of the episode was Tina, Shirley and Sylvie - Tina's prize of a mother-and-daughter photo session, and her efforts to fanagle Shirley into the shoot. These three work well together, and I find myself liking Shirley again, as she allows herself to be drawn into a dynamic with her sister and her mother which she tries hard not to show that she's enjoying. Sylvie's innocent joy at having her picture taken - A man wanted to take my picture once; he paid me a quid - to Shirley's vivid explanation to Kathy of Tina's pretended illness, they were a hoot.
The Root of the Problem. Well, it's the bus crash, of course, isn't it? And it happens to be the school bus run, with Denise returning from the library. What I found most disturbing about this was, yet again, the obvious, horrendously sexist and demeaning bullying of Louise by this Keegan fuckwit, who seems to be not only an overt misogynist and a bully, but also someone bordering on psychopathic meanness. The scene where he violently barged into her, shoving her violently up against the lockers and then divulging everything she said to him online, thinking him to be Travis, the other boy.
Actually, Rebecca was right. Keegan had committed identity theft, and Travis had a right to know. And Louise exaggerated about Shakil's part in the humiliation of her at the tube station. Shakil didn't laugh. This boy has serious behavioural problems, considering the way he treated Denise on the bus. I hope this arsehole isn't a permanent character. He's vile.
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